


Help Me Compromise

by Mistflyer1102



Series: Help Me Live [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bondlock, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistflyer1102/pseuds/Mistflyer1102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New job, new pet, new flat, new partner, new <i>life</i>; after a failed escape attempt, Q returns to London to fulfill Mycroft's demands of an arranged marriage under the terms of a different bargain. As he and James begin to construct something resembling a new life together, James is summoned to MI6 headquarters for a data retrieval mission to Istanbul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Then don’t bother,” Q said, keeping his voice steady as Mycroft Holmes paced around his study in the Diogenes Club, where the MI6 agents had deposited him once they’d arrived to London. He knew that four Double-O agents were now hovering around the club itself, three outside, one inside, in case he tried to make a break for it again. Mycroft, not to his surprise, had been waiting patiently for the agents’ arrival despite the early hour. Q never once took his eyes off Mycroft, not even when the older Holmes crossed behind where Q sat at the visitors’ chair in Mycroft’s office.

Mycroft sharply exhaled, tapping his umbrella against the floor impatiently. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Not only is M furious with me for tying up precious resources to find you, but the Prime Minister was rather upset when he found out last night where MI6’s best had gone off too,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Q, who refused to bow underneath the scowl. “However, as soon as Miss Lawson informed me of your arrest, I emailed them both to pass along the news, and that the agents would soon be returned to M. I did alert M that I wished for the wedding between you and her favorite to take place the day you arrived, to eliminate any possibility of you escaping again.”

 _Her favorite?_ Q wondered if that had played a factor in MI6’s decision to offer James Bond as a potential candidate. “Trust me, Bond was very careful not to let me escape a second time,” he said, rubbing his arm where he’d found a scratch that morning, most likely from when he tried to escape James in the woods.

“Commander Bond is, to an extent, an honorable man despite every aspect in his chosen profession proving otherwise. Formerly of the Royal Navy, he had a brief dalliance with a woman in 2006 that nearly cost him his life and career. Temporarily left MI6 for her, even. Do try to keep him within M’s employ this time, however, he is not useful otherwise,” Mycroft said, moving to check the door’s locks before crossing the room to his office.

 _Here it is._ “What are you hoping to gain from him?” Q asked carefully, aware that Mycroft must have planned something and that would have eventually informed Q. _He doesn’t know that James and I spoke before my arrest, that James knows he will use me against him._

“A way into MI6. Once there, you will be able to meet other, potentially more interesting partners, something to keep in mind for when Bond eventually succumbs to his demise on the field,” Mycroft said, pushing a few papers around his desk before handing Q a file. “M was kind enough to supply his service record for my perusal. Matches with the files that my staff were able to procure in their own investigations.”

Q hesitated, the file thick in his hands as he felt the heavy weight of Mycroft’s gaze on him. On one hand, he could read the file, invading James’s privacy and continue to play along to Mycroft’s whims. On the other, he could refuse and pique Mycroft’s interest to the level of intimacy he may already have with James, something he wanted to keep to himself so that he wouldn’t jeopardize the marriage and end up with someone else just because Mycroft didn’t want him to get emotionally attached.

Finally, he opened the file, studying only the basic information from James’s MI6 profile before shutting it again and pushing across the table to Mycroft. “That doesn’t tell me a damned thing,” he said, setting his jaw as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Must you be so difficult? I am trying to ensure your financial and domestic stability here, as I have been for the last six years,” Mycroft said irritably as he put the file back on the desk.

“While at the same time expanding your influence,” Q said, rubbing his temples as he wondered if James could knock on the door _now_ and get him out of there before he descended into yet another argument with Mycroft. Shaking his head, he said, “Mycroft, is _everything_ a power play to you? I mean, how the hell are you getting away with the arranged marriage in the first place?”

“I am simply ensuring that you’ll be well cared for in the event of something happening to me while trying to ensure the security of England while I’m at it. As for the second question, no one needs to know the mechanics behind the ceremony as long as both parties consent. I consented on your behalf, and Bond agreed as well,” Mycroft said, standing up again. “Now, Commander Bond did request for privacy after the wedding, which I’ll grant him. However, once he leaves English soil for his missions, you and I will have tea with Sherlock or just by ourselves, given how _stubborn_ Sherlock is being nowadays. In fact, he’s taken to tormenting Scotland Yard out of frustration.”

Q snorted. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to worm your way into Scotland Yard, yet,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, I was hoping Sherlock would be able to do that as he worked on his cases. I often excuse my presence there as keeping an eye out for him,” Mycroft said, standing up again. “We’ll pick this up later, for now, I think you might want to get ready for the wedding, I was thinking of a luncheon affair. Commander Bond has been surprisingly amiable to my demands, undoubtedly because he knows he’ll have to return to work soon.”

 _Or he just wants to be done with this as soon as possible, like me. So that he can move out of your influence_. Q suspected that Mycroft was in for one hell of a shock once James showed his true colors. “May I go, then? To get ready for…for this?” he asked, trying to speak around the knot in his stomach.

Mycroft nodded. “Double-oh six has graciously agreed to keep an eye on you until you’re married to Commander Bond, he said he’s not upset about the jammed door at the hotel in Brussels…?” he said, raising an eyebrow at Q, who flushed in embarrassment at the memory.

“Can I go now?” Q repeated, feeling very much the schoolboy in front of the headmaster in that second.

“Yes, go. I will see you in a couple hours, after I’ve spoken to your intended so that we can finish finalizing certain details.”

Q didn’t say anything to that, just stood up and left as calmly as he could before the anger overwhelmed him— _I’m not something to be bargained_ —but was careful to close the door quietly behind him, aware of how tetchy Mycroft became when he slammed doors. He didn’t need to anger Mycroft unnecessarily.

Alec didn’t say anything when Q approached him, merely stood up and moved aside to let him through. The two of them walked in silence towards the front doors before Alec said, “It won’t be bad, working at MI6. All you have to do is just grit your teeth through the ceremony, and James can have you out of the country for the honeymoon by nightfall.”

“I think at that point, I’ll just want to go home,” Q said quietly, chest tightening when he realized that ‘home’ would not be his little flat near Trafalgar Square, but somewhere else new entirely.

“Ask, and you’ll receive,” Alec merely replied, gingerly placing a comforting hand on Q’s shoulder.

Q only felt cold.


	2. Chapter 2

Q did not see James until the ceremony.

Or at least Mycroft’s idea of it.

“Does James still not trust me to stay?” he asked, glancing at Alec, who shrugged as the two of them stood with the registrar at an upscale restaurant where Mycroft had rented out the veranda for the event. Q felt uncomfortably on display, wearing a new suit in front of a group of people that were most likely from Mycroft’s circles; he didn’t recognize anyone there except for three of the Double-Os that had headed out after him. James was still missing as was Mycroft, but Alec was making faces at a woman Q didn’t recognize until she settled whatever disagreement they were having by discreetly giving him the finger when the registrar wasn’t looking.

Sherlock wasn’t there either, and neither was his partner, but Q suspected that Mycroft did not want to risk a scene.

“I think it’s more that James wants someone around you to make sure Mr. Holmes doesn’t bother you anymore,” Alec said, scowling as the woman turned to the Double-O Q had mistaken for the hotel receptionist during the chase, the two women laughing a moment later. “Eve, Eve, darling, just because I’m busy now doesn’t mean I’ll still be busy later…”

“Eve?” Q whispered back, glancing at Alec. “Who is she?”

“Field agent, one of those in the advanced class. She might do a run with one of us soon. Probably James, he doesn’t know her very well and M sometimes pairs us up that way to get the best impression of a field agent’s abilities. If you’re not friends with someone, you’re least likely to cover for them,” Alec said, turning back to Q. “The woman next to her, she was with us in Brussels. That’s Tess Lawson, she’s married to the agent you stole the gun from.”

Q cringed. “She won’t come after me that, will she?” he whispered, glancing at Alec, who shrugged.

“She has better people to chase for misbehavior than you, so I wouldn’t worry,” he muttered back, turning sharply when a door, which led to inside the building, opened and both James and Mycroft came through. James looked strangely triumphant as he slipped a small object into a jacket pocket, ignoring Mycroft’s irritation. James then calmly took his place next to Q as Mycroft moved to stand behind him, mirroring Alec. Q blinked when he realized that James had opted for his Navy uniform for the ceremony, and tried not to stare without being noticed.

If James’s faint smirk was anything to go by, he failed.

Alec nodded once to James before stepping back, leaving Q with James. Q felt his throat run dry even as the registrar began to speak, unable to focus on the man’s words as he carefully watched Mycroft standing behind James. _Does he suspect that James is about to dupe him? Will he separate us when he finds out?_ Q was too focused on his brother that he missed James gently reaching for him and folded Q’s hands in his own, startling Q. Gently squeezing Q’s hands, James ran his thumbs soothingly across Q’s wrists even as his brow furrowed slightly in question. _‘Later_ ’, Q mouthed carefully, and James nodded almost imperceptibly in response.

“Now gentlemen, if you will, the rings?”

“I will be at your side in sickness and in health, and you will have no reason to be afraid anymore,” James murmured almost too soft for even Q to hear as he pulled the ring from his pocket and slid it onto Q’s shaking finger.

Q had the sense to acknowledge Alec’s nudge in his back; he turned slightly to take the ring without looking away from James. “In sickness and in health,” he repeated, voice nearly cracking as he slid the ring onto James’s finger. “I—I trust you,” he nearly blurted out a second later, voice still too low for probably Mycroft, but James definitely caught it, a small smile crossing his face as he leaned forward to kiss Q lightly. Q was nearly caught off guard, but relaxed infinitesimally when he felt James pull him closer. He blinked when they pulled away to applause from both sides of the room, but still managed to smile despite the raging anxiety he could still feel even as they turned to sign their names on the agreement.

Then, as a last ditch attempt to spite Mycroft, he took the pen before James could, taking his new husband’s surname as his own as he signed the documents, ignoring Mycroft’s glower and Alec’s quiet snickers. James coughed slightly, but kept a calm expression as he took the pen from Q, pulling him closer even as he signed the documents. Mycroft signed as the first witness before handing the pen over to Alec, who muttered something in Russian as he signed; Q did not miss the way James discreetly shook his head a second later.

Then it was over.

Q still felt knots in his stomach as James led him to what Q guessed was their designated seats at the luncheon table. Alec slid neatly in beside Q while Mycroft took James’s other side. He didn’t realize he was still shaking until he felt James rest a careful hand on his own, where it rested on his knee. “I have something for you after we’re done here, and then we can either go home or somewhere on the Continent,” James murmured in his ear. “M was called away this morning, and she won’t be back on Tuesday so no one will be the wiser if we don’t show up until then.”

“Why did she get called away?” Q asked without thinking, brow furrowing as he stared at James.

“I’ll tell you later,” James replied before nodding towards a large serving bowl. “Soup? You should eat a little something—”

“I might throw it up,” Q warned even as he reached for the serving bowl. “That’s my first rule, by the way,” he muttered as he ladled some soup into his own bowl. “No dictating my eating schedule, I managed two years on my own with an irregular schedule.”

“In that case, my second one is no nighttime surprises, I’m a light sleeper since my life depends on it when I’m working,” James warned before Mycroft evidently tapped his shoulder, because he murmured, “I’ll try to get us out of here soon, if that’s what you still want.”

“Yes, please,” Q whispered back before letting James deal with Mycroft, instead focusing on eating what he could without getting ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hangs head* I apologize for missing yesterday's update, there was quite a bit of traveling going on.


	3. Chapter 3

“Sherrinford, _wait._ ”

“No, it’s after the wedding and you promised James that you’d leave us alone,” Q said, gathering the suit jacket that he’d draped over his chair to protect it in the chance he got sick from nerves at some point during the lunch. He glanced around the room for James, frowning when he didn’t see the agent, or any of the other MI6 personnel for that matter. Ducking out of Mycroft’s reach, he said, “Speaking of James, I apparently need to find him.”

“By the road with his colleagues. Sherrinford, Sherlock will want to talk to you at some point, he was never included in the agreement I made with Commander Bond,” Mycroft said, easily keeping pace with Q. “And I understand that you’re both annoyed with me at the moment, but please don’t shut me out of your life entirely. The three of us only have each other now,” he said, moving to stand in front of Q. He moved the umbrella so that it partially blocked Q’s path to the stairs that led from the veranda, never once looking away from Q. “Mother would not want us to fight.”

“And she would be very proud of your efforts to look after us,” Q said, fighting to keep his voice level. “But I have a husband now, I’ll be fine,” he said, turning briefly towards the agent, who was talking to Alec “Please step aside, Mycroft. You got what you wanted for now, now let me have a little peace. It’s the least you could do,” he said, stiffening when Mycroft merely raised an eyebrow.

“As I said before, I’m only looking out for you,” he said before stepping aside to let Q through. “And do remind Commander Bond that he isn’t as untouchable as he likes to think he is,” he said as Q ducked past him.

“What?” Q said, turning around to face him.

“He’ll know exactly what I am talking about,” Mycroft said before one of his colleagues tapped his shoulder. Q took that as his dismissal and escaped down the stairs.

He was halfway across the lawn when Tess abruptly materialized at his side, bumping shoulders with him when he jumped at her sudden appearance. “Congratulations on your wedding,” she said, falling into step beside him.

“Thank you,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too unsettled from his conversation with Mycroft. “I hope your husband is doing all right, and that I didn’t upset him too much,” he said, pulling on the suit jacket and resting his hands in the pockets.

She snorted. “Are you kidding? It was the biggest slice of humble pie he’s eaten in a while. Trust me when I say he won’t tell a soul how he ended up with a bitten wrist and no weapon, M wouldn’t let him hear the end of it,” she said, turning to face him. She glanced across the lawn at James, and then said, “Although, from what I understand, blackmail on us is hard to come by, so you might want to hold onto that.” Turning back to Q, she asked, “Is a honeymoon in the cards this weekend?”

“I haven’t really talked to James about that, to be honest. We haven’t had a private moment since he dropped me off this morning at the Diogenes Club, hopefully the last time I’ll ever have to go there,” Q said, frowning slightly. “Why?”

“Just curious.” She held out a set of car keys and said, “Tell James that for every scratch he puts on my car, I’ll put one on his to match. Hopefully that will work as incentive not to destroy it, I know how much he loves that Aston of his.”

“Then why give the keys to us?” Q asked, catching the keys as she dropped them into his hand.

“Because I asked for them,” James said, appearing at Q’s side, casually wrapping a hand around Q’s waist. He nodded once to Tess and said, “If you will excuse us?”

“Leave your keys in the sun visor, I’ll come around later to pick up your car,” Tess replied, nodding once to Q. “Gentlemen, I’ll leave you to it then. Q, keep him out of trouble, he keeps his gun in the glove box so I would recommend taking that away first,” she said, winking before she turned around and left.

“Where _are_ we going?” Q whispered as he turned to face James, nearly jumping when the agent leaned in for a kiss.

“It’s a surprise, but we need to go somewhere else first,” James said, nudging Q towards the first car— _the_ _Aston Martin_ —parked on the side of the street. He pulled Q closer and leaned down as though to nuzzle Q’s hair before murmuring, “Just play along with me for a few minutes.”

Confused, Q nodded as they approached the car and James gestured for him to get into the passenger seat and he slid into the driver’s. Q glanced out the window in time to see Mycroft watching him carefully, and nodded once right as James pulled out of the spot. He pressed the horn once when they passed the other agents, earning a few fingers but a few waves as well, and Q slowly exhaled, somewhat unable to process the idea that he was technically free of Mycroft now.

_I can’t believe he never found out about the deals we made._

Q didn’t realize he was shaking until he felt James’s hand squeeze his own. “Told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” James said after a moment as he returned his attention to the road. He seemed unnaturally calm, and Q wasn’t entirely sure if that was normal or James was on edge from whatever drove him to whisper the earlier instructions to Q.

“Mycroft is annoyed with you,” Q said, remembering Mycroft’s warning.

“Is he? Has he mentioned what I’ve done to offend him so?” James asked, voice light as he guided the car a few blocks down before pausing at a stoplight. Q was about to respond when James pulled out his mobile, tapped something on the screen, and then tilted it so Q could see— _Bugs may be present. Act as though it is._

Q nearly groaned aloud, but exhaled sharply instead. “He just said, ‘remind Commander Bond that he isn’t as untouchable as he likes to think’,” Q said as he turned to James. “Would a clarification be all right?” he asked as James turned right at the intersection and headed towards a parking garage.

“Of course. He’s just upset that I blackmailed him into obtaining one more item for you,” James said as he pulled into the garage and drove up a level before slowing down, silently counting the rows as he passed each one.

He pulled into an empty spot at the end of one row, and gestured for Q to get out. James then tossed a small backpack that had two sets of Q’s familiar clothes— _the ones I packed when I ran._ Following James’s gestures, he got into the backseat and changed out of his suit and into more comfortable street clothes. He took the pair of shoes James offered and grinned as they walked away, silently marveling at James’s efficiency. “You were really serious about this,” he said when James wrapped a hand around his waist.

“That and I don’t trust Mycroft at all.” Reaching into his pocket, he said, “When you ran away, Mycroft had your flat packed up and put into storage, to make your return difficult. I knew your return was going to be difficult as it was, even before we met in Brussels.” Pressing a small key into Q’s palm, he said quietly, “This is not a prison, and as I’ve said before, I’m not home often enough to nitpick about furnishings.” He leaned forward with a smirk and said, “I was thinking I would take you back to the flat, and then pick up your things. After that, it’s your call. Alec did mention that you wanted to stay home, and I figured that France isn’t far away if you do change your mind.”

Q stared at him, not even blinking when James lifted Tess’s car keys from his trousers pocket and began to walk away, the car beeping when he pressed a button on the fob.

He hesitated, and then began to follow James, hoping for once that this insane plan might work.


	4. Chapter 4

“I have a question, if you don’t mind.”

“Ask away,” Q replied as he put the last few books onto the shelf behind the sofa, where James sat while meticulously cleaning and reassembling his Walther. He flattened the last cardboard box he’d brought from the storage unit— _only took five out of who knows how many_ —and placed it in between the bookshelf and the wall before turning to walk around the sofa, footsteps barely audible on the wooden floors. There had been something strangely depressing about seeing his entire life packed into a neat pile of cardboard boxes in a storage unit on the city outskirts, and James had ushered him away when he’d made a sound in his throat, saying that they could always return for the rest.

“In Brussels, when you held a gun to Will, would you have shot him if he had come closer?” James asked, looking up as Q paused at the reminder, brow furrowing as he tried to think back to his mental state that night.

“Yes,” he said finally, looking at James. “If Will had ignored me, I would have shot him. But I wouldn’t have killed him, I would have shot him in the knee or leg to keep him from following me and prayed that it deterred the rest of you from following me,” he explained, looking down involuntarily where James had laid out the Walther pieces on a white cloth on the coffee table.

“But you wouldn’t have killed him?” James asked, blue eyes watching him intently as Q sighed and moved to sit down on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table.

“No, only if he left me no other option,” Q said, frowning. “Why?”

“Because I would feel a little better if you could defend yourself while I was away on missions,” James said, shrugging with one shoulder. “But I’ll leave that decision up to you, and I can put you in touch with one of the firing instructors if you want.” He glanced around the flat, and said, “You should also know that there are always at least five guns hidden in this flat, just so it’s not a rude shock _if_ an intruder was to come and find one.”

“Five—how did you get five guns in here without your quartermaster discovering?” Q asked, glancing around the flat as well and finding none in sight.

“I told him I lost them. One is in a false panel underneath this table,” James replied, looking back at Q even as he tapped the coffee table. “The second is in the DVD cabinet, the third is hidden within a fake book on the shelf behind me, the fourth one is in the appliance cabinet in the kitchen, and the fifth one usually stays under my pillow, even when I’m away” he said as he finished reassembling the Walther. He aimed it towards the windows that overlooked the street below, but did not fire. “Because your room overlooks the garden square, and we’re surrounded by other MI6 personnel, I’m not too worried about threats reaching you from anywhere but the front door.”

“Not to mention there’s at least two inches of bulletproof glass on the windows, recently installed since the windowsill paint is a bit scratched,” Q said, remembering when he’d entered his bedroom for the first time. Clean sheets and extra blankets, a thick carpet underfoot, sturdy curtains, and a nice view of Onslow Gardens outside his window. There hadn’t been any wall decorations or anything on the bedside table or bureau, but that could be fixed.

James nodded. “That was replaced about a week before Mycroft approached M about you, there was a slight mishap. I would recommend against trying to force the windows open if you haven’t unlocked them,” he said, switching the safety back on before replacing it in the shoulder holster he still wore. He turned back to Q and said, “Only Major Boothroyd knows for sure where everyone lives, and neighbors of course know each other. Lee, double-oh one that is, lives in the building next to ours, and Thomas, double-oh eight, lives in the one across the gardens.”

Q raised an eyebrow. “That’s odd, I’m surprised Alec isn’t near as well. I figured you two would want to live near each other if you’re close enough that you trust him to keep Mycroft away from me,” he said, getting up with a slight grin. “Does he visit often, then?”

“How do you think the window mishap happened in the first place?” James asked, winking before standing up. “I’m going to head upstairs and see if the few techs who live up there know anything more about M’s trip. Your keys to the flat are on the mantle and I left Tess’s keys there in case you want to go back to the storage unit and recover more boxes. If there’s some furniture you want…”

“No, I mean, none at the moment,” Q interrupted, offering a brief smile as he turned towards his bedroom. “Will I need anything for when we go to MI6 on Monday?” he asked, pausing in his tracks as he glanced back at James.

“Nothing that we can get here, we’ll take care of that on Monday,” James said, gesturing to the kitchen. “I have my mobile if you need anything,” he said as he took his own keys from the bowl on the table beside the door.

“All right, And James?” Q watched as the agent pause in slipping on his shoes, and he said, “Thank you, really, for everything.”

James merely nodded once before ducking out of the flat, closing the door with a soft _click_ behind him.

Q took advantage of the newfound quiet to go back to his room and rearrange what he could. The door couldn’t lock from the outside, but Q suspected that was only to make it difficult for unwanted guests to get in. He blinked when he found his bag on the foot of the bed, the one he had hastily packed the night before his flight to Brussels. He hummed softly when he opened it and found his laptop still inside, tucked carefully against unworn clothing, along with his wallet and packet of money that he’d managed to grab on his way out of the country before Mycroft could freeze his assets. _Speaking of which, I'll need to get those back soon,_ he thought as he flopped back on the bed. He glanced around the walls as best he could, deciding to move the bedside table to the other side of the bed so he could put the bureau in its place, and then have room for his desk. Then he’d place his old bookshelf on the other side of the room, just next to the window.

Then he’d get the old but still comfortable armchair and place it in the corner. The shelf and armchair were still in storage, and would be horrendously out of place in the flat because of their age and color, but he suspected that if James had complaints, he wouldn’t voice them aloud.

_And I have to actually go into work somewhere on Monday. Fantastic._

Q just sighed and turned over, face down into the pillow. He turned his head a moment later to avoid pressing his glasses into the fabric, but stared out the window, where he could see the other building. Curling in the bed, he closed his eyes as the exhaustion from the past few days finally caught up with him.

The only bright side to that was that he’d be able to work with programming this time around, and without Mycroft’s meddling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for disappearing, I fell ill not too long after posting the last one and had to recover.


	5. Chapter 5

“If you ever wake me up like that again, I _will_ hurt you,” Q growled, taking another sip of his Earl Grey from the travel mug as he hunched down in his oversized parka, trying to get warm. The car heaters were on at full blast, but Q still felt as cold as he did when James dragged him out of bed earlier that morning.

To his irritation, James merely shrugged. “Not a morning person, then?”

“What tipped you off?”

James glanced at him as they pulled up to a stoplight. “Might have been the cursing. Or the fighting,” he said, not sounding repentant at all for waking Q up at six in the morning, first by stealing the duvet and then slowly taking sheets and then pillows off the bed until Q turned and chased him out of the room. “But the shower helped, didn’t it? Just like I said it would,” he said, turning back to the road, turning onto the road that led to Vauxhall Bridge.

Q scowled as he took another sip of his tea. “Here's a tip. I do not wake up until I have had a significant amount of caffeine, and I am a night person, thank you very much,” he said, inhaling the steam from the travel mug as he glanced out across the Thames to the familiar building. He swallowed, suddenly unable to finish his tea as he lost what little of his appetite he still had left.

“You’ll fit right in with the techs then, although the mess hall will be open twenty four hours in case you do change your mind,” James said as he turned left before making another sharp left into a driveway that wrapped around the building past the closed iron gate. He pulled a badge out of his wallet and held it up for the reader, and then Q watched as the gates beeped before sliding open. James pulled into the driveway, following the pavement around to what Q realized was an underground car park. “We’ll go through the main entrance this time, since you need ID cards for each person to use the side entrance,” James said as he turned the car off. He glanced at Q. “Ready?”

Q shook his head. “Starting to have second thoughts about working here,” he admitted, forcing down another sip of tea in an effort to calm himself down. “I’m not entirely sure I will be up to the caliber that MI6 expects, I have only ever done commission work before around a regular nine to five that Mycroft deemed ‘safe’,” he admitted, fingers tightening briefly around the mug in an effort to warm his fingers.

James reached over and carefully rested his hand on top of Q’s, the flash of light against the ring catching the other’s attention. “You will be fine. You are qualified, your background checks out, M is not here, and Mycroft can’t get in here,” he said quietly.

“Careful, I might decide that I just want to spend the night,” Q warned, tilting a half-smile even as he spotted the momentary relief in James’s eyes. “No pushy agents to wake me up at dawn, no chance of Mycroft bothering me—”

“Say that again when M returns,” James interrupted as he leaned over and brushed a light kiss against Q’s temple. He cleared his throat as Q blinked in surprise, and pushed his door open. “Let’s go, you still need to get ID and authorizations from Major Boothroyd before humoring Doctor O’Reilly with a physical. Both are required and take time, although I can help you dodge out of physicals today if you want,” he said, leaning on the doorframe to look at Q.

Q shook his head before climbing out. “Might as well get it over with,” he said, closing his door before walking around to join James, who shut his door and ushered Q towards the garage entrance. Q hesitated for the briefest of moments before James placed a hand on the small of his back and gently pushed him until Q recovered enough to walk under his own power. They left the garage, heading for the main entrance back up the drive. James walked behind Q slightly, and Q knew he was most likely preparing to cut off an escape route should Q change his mind.

Q idly considered darting forward to the street, just to psych James out.

The front lobby was empty except for three security officers who were sitting at their stations until one looked up at their entry. Q nearly stopped when the officer stood up and pulled out a handgun in one fluid motion, the movement startling the other two. He remained tensed even when James put a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing in both warning and reassurance. “Gentlemen, it’s been a while,” James said in a casual tone as the other two slid off their stools, hands resting near hip holsters.

“Double-oh seven,” the leader greeted warily, glancing at Q for a moment before turning back to James. “Major Boothroyd said you failed to report and turn your weapons in when you returned two days ago,” he said as his two companions moved to flank him.

“Is that why we’re all thinking about starting a fight?” James asked, looking pointedly at the two guards behind the leader.

The leader’s mouth twitched. “Double-oh seven, I _know_ that you’re well aware of the rules, especially those concerning weapons on the premises and visitors,” he said, glancing at Q and checking him over. “And given what happened last time you entered through here, I don’t think you want your friend around if you’re going to resist,” he said, still holding the gun even as he lowered his hand to rest at his side.

“Oh, I promise to be on my best behavior today,” James said before glancing at Q, who raised an eyebrow. “Go with the one on the end and give him your driver’s licence, it might take them a few minutes to be done with me,” he said, nodding to the one on the end, who straightened slightly. He turned to the leader and said, “He’s here for Major Boothroyd, so he hasn’t had a chance to get his ID yet. But he should be on the roster.”

“All right.” The leader cautiously re-holstered his gun before gesturing for Q to go with the man on the end and moving to meet James.

Q glanced over his shoulder for a split second before heading to the one on the end. The guard offered a smile before he said, “Just take your coat off and any other loose articles of clothing in the bin for scanning, and then walk through the metal detector, and then we’ll do one final pat down.”

Q swallowed the last of the tea before setting the travel mug in the bin, soon followed by his parka and cardigan. Trying not to shiver, he handed over his licence and obeyed the guard’s instructions. As the guard conducted the final pat down, Q checked on James, who nodded once when they made eye contact: his security guards were moving warily around him as he remained absolutely still and obeyed their orders.

“Please don’t tell me you harass them too,” he whispered to James as he joined the agent after collecting his personal effects and pinning on the Visitors badge.

“Only occasionally. You’ll find that the double-ohs have a reputation around here that vary from person to person. While O’Reilly hates us all, Major Boothroyd developed a certain tolerance for us,” James said, re-attaching his watch as he led them down an unmarked corridor; Q was surprised at how empty the place seemed to be, but put it down to the early hour on a Monday morning.

Two personnel walked past them, and Q did not miss the way that they both turned to stare at him and James before whispers broke out. James glanced behind them with a raised eyebrow, earning two squeaks before the two personnel hurried on. “And the rest of the staff has their own opinion, as unwanted as it may be. You’ll find that a lot of the major questions are settled with unauthorized betting pools.” James nudged Q with an elbow and said, “Q-Branch is notorious for starting at least half of them.”

“Right. Lucky for you, I’m not much of a gambling man,” Q said, frowning at the lack of tea in his mug.

“I tend to gamble frequently,” James said as he shouldered open one of the numerous doors to their right. He leaned against the door to keep it open for Q, and then let the door slam shut behind him with a loud _wham!_

“ _Double-oh seven!”_

Q looked up in time to see an older man wearing a gray suit turned around from the workstation he’d been standing at, a nearby staff member bending down to pick up what looked like the shattered remains of a gadget scattered on the floor. A few men and women sitting at their desks were either staring or attempting to recover from the momentary fright. “Double-oh seven, what have I said about slamming doors in my branch?” the man said as he stepped down from the platform

“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention,” James said easily as he wrapped a loose arm around Q’s waist.

“You never do,” the man grumbled as he walked towards the two of them, clapping his hands together when he spotted Q. “And you must be Sherrinford Holmes.”

“Sherrinford Bond, actually,” Q clarified, shaking hands with the man. “But I go by Q.”

“And I am Major Boothroyd, the Quartermaster here at MI6. The gentleman behind me is my second-in-command, Matthew Clark,” Boothroyd said, gesturing to the man in the lab coat still standing on the platform, who managed to balance some of the gadget pieces long enough to wave back. “His duties lie in leading Research and Development, while I am in charge of Technical Services, which include mission support in the occasional opportunity that the agents request it,” he explained before turning to James. “Equipment, double-oh seven.”

James nodded, already moving to walk beside Q as the three of them headed back to the front. “I’m going to leave before O’Reilly realizes that I’m here, but call me when you’re ready to leave for the day,” he said in a lower voice as Boothroyd summoned one of the staff members. He ducked down for a quick kiss to the forehead before he whispered, “You’ll be fine.”

Q nodded, but Boothroyd turned to him before he could reply. “Q, this is Marcela, another one of my junior staff,” Boothroyd said, gesturing to a young dark-haired woman who smiled. “She will help you get settled, and then you and I will get your identifications and permissions arranged, double-oh seven tends to take longer than necessary when it comes to returning his equipment. I need to take advantage of the fact that he’s actually in for once,” he said, glancing once at James. “Marcela, take Q to the break room and then take him to the workstation beside yours, you’re both in programming so I imagine that you’ll get along well.”

“Nice to meet you,” Q said as he and Marcela shook hands. “Excuse me, then,” he said, glancing at both James and Boothroyd before he moved to follow Marcela.

“It’s good to meet you, we’re always excited to have newcomers,” Marcela said, grinning at him over her shoulder as she led him to what he realized was a break room of sorts: there was a small kitchenette with a partition going down the middle. The door in the partition led to another small room with tables and armchairs, along with what he realized was a coat rack and a row of bins labeled with different names. “If you don’t mind me asking what sort of programming do you do?” Marcela asked as she gestured towards the rack before heading to the end of the row of bins.

“Encryptions, code-building, hacking, the fun stuff,” Q said, grinning when Marcela laughed. “What are those for?” he asked as Marcela pulled out an unmarked bin off the stack next to the shelf.

“Little things that you don’t want to haul around all day, like phone, keys, wallet, whatever you want,” Marcela said as he took the bin from her. “Anyone in R&D are required to put all loose articles in the bins to keep them from interfering with the tests. Most TS people use them as storage units and just leave things here overnight.”

“Tests?” Q repeated, pausing in putting his travel mug into the bin.

“Weapons. Everything is tested before it goes to the agents,” she clarified, leaning against the shelf of bins as he finished putting everything away. She hesitated, and then asked, “Can I ask you something really personal that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to?” as Q placed his bin in the next available slot on the shelf, right underneath Marcela’s own.

“Oh?” Q narrowed his eyes slightly as he walked over to the kitchenette sink to fill a water glass to soothe the latest bout of nerves. “What kind of ‘really personal’ question do you mean?” he asked, filling the glass and taking a sip.

She hesitated, face turning pink before she blurted, “What was it like? I mean, how was it? With, you know, him?”

Q paused, brow furrowing. “What?”

Marcela rolled her eyes and glanced towards the main door before deeming it safe to speak, face reddening even more. She leaned forward as Q took another sip and whispered, “What was it like to have sex with _James Bond_?”

Q promptly choked on his water.


	6. Chapter 6

_I can’t remember the last time I really wanted to kill a code for being stubborn._

“Hey Q, how are you managing?” Marcela asked, startling Q out of his reverie as she slid into the open seat beside him, her bag nearly hitting his leg. “Congratulations on finishing your first week here,” she said, smiling when Q made a face at her before leaning back in his own chair. “You look horrible, but that means you’re going to do just fine here,” she said bluntly, grinning when Q leaned his head back before flipping her off.

“I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks,” he admitted, rubbing his temples, trying to chase away the ache that had settled between his eyes. He glanced at the other techs, somewhat not surprised to find that the skeleton crews were filtering in as his usual coworkers began to leave. “Code’s giving me problems, and I don’t sleep as well as I used to. I’m half-tempted to break something in the flat just to hear rattling pipes again,” he said, stifling a yawn.

“Well, you’ve only been at the code for three days now, just give it a little more time. Major Boothroyd isn’t expecting much from us since we’re new, just to help keep the branch running,” Marcela pointed out, glancing across the branch where Q could see the first of the three most recent newcomers, Riley Masters, asleep on his desk with his hand frozen halfway through mussed hair. “He hasn’t figured his out yet, and he’s been at it for several weeks.”

“I should probably get going, though, don’t know if I can stand dealing with Clark much longer for this week,” he said, leaning forward to start shutting his program down. “Maybe I’ll get some inspiration over the weekend.”

“Don’t let Clark bully you. He’s always like that to the newcomers, that’s why Major Boothroyd keeps him in charge of the skeleton crew and all newcomers go to the regular crew,” Marcela said, arching a brow when Clark glanced in their direction. “Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to come to the pub with us, we all go every Friday night to complain about the administrators, supervisors, and anyone else who was a complete arse,” she said, turning back to Q. “Since you’re new, it would be a good chance to meet everyone else on the regular staff without Clark or Boothroyd breathing down our necks. We give each other rides, and I can take you if you want, so you don’t need to bother Bond about a car,” she said, and Q did not miss the hopeful expression that crossed her face.

 _Well, why the hell not?_ Nothing awaited him this weekend, with no commissions lined up or quiet husbands hovering around the flat. _I shouldn’t be missing the commissions this much, those were risky and this is a stable job_ , he thought as he started gathering his things. “I can meet you out front, if that’s all right, I need to get something out of my bin.”

“Nice! All right, I’m just going to get Riley and I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she said, smiling as she stood up and gathered her bag. “Silver Focus, hard to miss.”

“All right, I’ll see you then.” As his systems powered down for the night, Q reached forward and took his thumb drive before weaving in and out the few desks that had intermingled night and day crew. He then set the thumb drive in its foam bed in the locked box just outside the break room, where all digital projects remained overnight, and then locked the box again before heading into the break room towards his bin.

His pet project—something he kept on hand to break the tedium between decryptions and in between attempts—was still nestled in its own case near the back of the bin, and he gently pulled it out and tucked it against his chest. Placing the box in his bag and securing it, he grabbed his coat and left the break room, silently relieved at having something to do other than returning to an empty flat for a takeaway dinner and trying not to think about what the Double-O was up to that night.

_At least there’s the small miracle that the police hasn’t called yet even though he's been gone all week._

Both Riley and Marcela were gone by the time Q returned to the branch, but he kept to the edges of the room, hoping to avoid notice from Clark. At the door, he logged himself out and slipped out into the hall, adjusting the sling of his bag over his shoulder as he headed for the lifts. He pulled his mobile out and sent a quick text to Marcela to let her know that he was coming, and hesitated when he paused by James’s name. _No, he’s probably busy with whatever, best not to bother him_. He sighed, looking down as he stuffed the mobile away into a pocket.

_THUMP!_

_“_ Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” he said, turning in time to catch the unfamiliar man by the elbow before he pitched forward. He stumbled along with the stranger, phone clattering to the floor as he reached out to the man’s other shoulder to somehow keep him from falling. “I’m sorry, I was texting a friend, didn’t see you there,” Q said, letting go of the man as he brushed himself off. He knelt down to pick up the mobile, brushing the case off as he faced the man.

“Oh no, it’s quite all right. Believe it or not, I’ve done the same thing myself,” the man said, offering a hand. “Bill.”

“Quinn.” Q accepted the hand and shook it, taking a step back when Bill did. “Um, are you looking for Major Boothroyd?” he asked, noticing Bill check briefly down the hall to the doors to Q-Branch. “He left an hour or so ago, Clark is in there now as is the night staff. I just lost track of time and was on my way out,” he explained hurriedly when Bill turned to him with a raised eyebrow. _I am not getting in trouble after one week…_

“So you’re off-duty now?” Bill asked, clearly interested.

“Erm, yes.” Q had hoped that by leaving out his name, he could escape notice from the rest of the MI6 staff, given the (sometimes uncomfortably explicit) rumors that still swirled around the branch, but he suspected that Bill had either heard of one or wanted Q for an entirely different reason. “Was there something you wanted?” he asked after a moment, hoping that he sounded calmer than he felt.

Bill hesitated, glanced back at the branch, and then turned to Q. “How opposed are you to working off the record with decryptions?” he asked, voice low as he moved to stand in between Q and the branch door.

“Um, not very, I suppose…depends how much it interferes with my work with Major Boothroyd,” Q said, brow furrowing as he tried to remember how little sleep he’d need in order to do both tasks. He had twenty-four hours; he could cram two jobs in there as he’d done in the past with commissions. “I think—no, I know I can do that,” he said, looking up at Bill, who grinned. “Just tell me what needs to be done.”

“Good, good, I can talk to Major Boothroyd and have you switched to the night shift so that it’s easier to do this,” Bill said, gesturing for Q to walk towards the lifts. “I’ll explain once we get upstairs. Unfortunately, you’ll have to set aside whatever project you’re working on now since this is a higher priority—”

“If it’s decryption work, then there are going to be stretches of time where I won’t be doing anything to it,” Q interrupted, hoping that perhaps a break from his current work would enable him to relax and possibly think of yet another way to crack the code. He only had a section—all five of them working on it did, in order to find the keys faster—but the code had so far resisted all attempts to break. He had planned to start using slightly illegal methods of cracking his way in, once he had a chance to ask someone if it was permissible to use such methods, but evidently he was going to miss the Q-Branch get-together tonight. He sighed as he texted an apology to Marcela, and then looked up at Bill. “When I’m not working on that one, I could be working on the other. See?”

Bill frowned. “I know it’s none of my business, but wouldn’t your significant other mind the workload?” he asked, leaning against the wall as Q did, the lift doors closing a moment later. “I only ask because the last time we overworked a Q-Branch staff member, her husband called us and verbally shredded both me and Villiers for it,” he said quickly when Q’s eyes widened in surprise at the question. “So we try to avoid that from happening again, when assigning extra projects to Q-Branch staff.”

“Ah, no, my significant other will hardly notice that I’m gone. He’s never there anymore and we haven’t spoken in days,” Q said, shrugging with one shoulder as he felt his mobile buzz. Ignoring it, he glanced at the lift’s number display, which, to his slight discomfort, kept steadily increasing. “Nothing to worry about, really, it gives me more of a chance to focus on the work instead of anything else,” he said with a reassuring smile.

Bill nodded. “I see. Still, don’t tell Bond, er, double-oh seven, that is. He might take that as an invitation to bother you,” he said, causing Q to sharply look up at him. “M’s asked that he mind himself at work, since his new husband works here as well and she doesn’t want an inter-department war just because he irritated the husband. The other man works in Q-Branch, so you might have at least seen him. But anyway, knowing Bond, she gives him about a week before he starts his usual, off-mission liaisons again,” Bill said, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Oh…does he usually do that, then? ‘Off-mission liaisons’?” Q asked, trying to stall so he could process how he felt with the news; he and James hadn’t entered the arrangement willingly—hell, Q knew he’d only agreed after James presented the way out, a quiet divorce at the end of a year—but he still felt odd, for some reason, to know that James evidently got around a lot more than he initially assumed. _Oh God, Mycroft will find out, if James isn’t careful, and then I’ll be taken away again. Less ‘if’, then, and more of ‘when’_. _But would James even care, outside of the fact that he’ll irritate his superiors? It does make sense, though; I was a mission to him then and most likely now._

_Then why the hell does it bother me a little bit?_

“Usually, but he’s curbed it quite a bit in the past week, when he and Trevelyan have been doing something for M. They’ll head out after dinner, we’ve got a few pizzas upstairs that need to be eaten and then M will have another strategy for approaching tonight. And if she doesn’t, well, we’ll brainstorm then,” Bill said, grinning as the lift _dinged_ , having stopped at their destination. “Since we’re a little early, I can bring you up to speed now,” he added over his shoulder.

 _Wait, M’s going to be there too?_ Q hadn’t met the director yet, and still wasn’t sure if he wanted to, given the quiet horror stories he’d heard from other Q-Branch staff. To be summoned to the director’s office was to do the Walk of Shame, and eventual loss of a job in most cases. Trying not to shudder, he followed Bill out into a semi-lit hall, most windows showing empty, dark offices as they walked towards the last door on the right, on which Bill knocked before pushing the door open and standing back to let Q in.

To his surprise, both James and Alec were seated on the other end of the conference table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! *waves* I do apologize for disappearing for several months, a critical family matter came up at the end of November and then I had to push to finish the 00Q Reverse Bang in time (with varying degrees of success). But I'm back, I hope everyone has had a great start to the new year, and I'll see you all next chapter! ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope you enjoy this story, I will update it daily to the best of my ability. This is the sequel to _Help Me Disappear,_ it would probably help to read that one first. 
> 
> Mistflyer


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